


Liars and Thieves

by fourredfruits



Category: shameless(US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:18:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourredfruits/pseuds/fourredfruits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how their not-break-up happened</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liars and Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for S3 final episode
> 
> Title from Mumford & Sons' 'Dustbowl Dance'

 

 

Ian Gallagher, people said the kid had not much ‘Gallagher’ in him. It was a strange thing to say though, since the Gallaghers were like a zoo in their diversity. Their youngest was black for god’s sake.

 

However, it was about how Ian Gallagher’s green eyes held no anger and contempt, the desperate and veiled longing, which was in all Gallaghers’ eyes. It was just a matter of degree; the younger ones couldn’t manage to hide the latter while the older ones were more prone to the former when they were face to face with their alcoholic prick of a father. Ian, though, he looked at his father as if Frank was a wisp of smoke, nothing much really, but something he didn’t want his siblings near because it would make your eyes water and cough.

 

It seemed he was the most harmless of them all with his easy and open smile. The kid knew how to stay out of trouble, people on the South side would say if you asked about Ian Gallagher. The thing is, Mickey thought, a Gallagher who knows how to stay out of trouble should be the most fucked-up of them all. After all, in a world where insanity is normal, sanity is a dangerous thing.

 

And it wasn’t so far from the truth. The kid had a fucking death wish written all over him. Mickey wondered how the others didn’t see it like he did, it was never about becoming a war hero or patriotism or some shit. It was always about slithering away. Not like running away, though, when you run away, people notice the hole you’re leaving behind and it’s just so evident that you were here a moment ago that everyone can’t help but notices. With Ian Gallagher, it was different. He was ridiculously good at getting up without a sound, dusting off himself and filling up the hole slowly till it’s like he was never there.

 

He would start off with small things, like talking about going to the army and some shit, he wouldn’t talk about anything after that, would never mention about coming back. He wouldn’t make promises, especially not to his younger siblings. Mickey knew that Ian loved them but stil, he never made them expect things from him so that they wouldn’t look for him when their knees are scraped and bleeding or when they need something from school signed. They would miss him when he’s gone for sure, but they wouldn’t exactly expect him to stay, either. They wouldn’t need him to go through their daily routines. The way Ian Gallagher loved was exactly the opposite of his big sister. His way was not to leave any missing piece in people’s lives when he’s finally gone.

 

So yes, Mickey knew very well that Ian Gallagher would leave one day. What he didn’t expect was for Ian to do it like this, to run off without ever filling up the hole. It was because of him though, wasn’t it? Mickey fucking Milkovich pushed him too far this time until he stopped caring whatever he leaves behind.

 

“Don’t…”

 

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, didn’t even know how to finish the sentence but something was choking him and he had to get it out of his throat.

 

“Don’t what?”

 

Ian Gallagher was good at being a cold-hearted fucker, better than most people would give him credit for. Mickey just stared at him and for a moment, or maybe in some parallel universe, he opened his mouth and told him not to go. It was this close and he swore he almost did it but then it hit him in the chest how this beautiful fucker shouldn’t put up with his shit anymore.

 

His life was meant to be fucked up from the very beginning. He didn’t give a shit about it anymore; it was no use whining over something like that. Marrying some knocked-up Russian whore didn’t even add to the pile of shit he’d got. If a piece of paper could get his dad off his and Ian’s back, he considered the marriage a pretty good deal. Maybe that was the problem, how nothing ever mattered to him anymore. How little was left in this shithole and this Gallagher in front him was about all of it.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Who knew it would hurt this much? It was laughable, really, how he hoped this could go on a little longer. Ian finally turned around and was out of his sight. Mickey heard his footsteps and each one of them struck his eardrums like thunder, he did want to chase after the redhead like a bitch, to beg him not to leave. The force hit him repeatedly, harder than any blow, but he didn’t. He stayed there crying like a fucking pussy and prayed to God who he never believed in that Ian Gallagher would make it far from this shithole, from him and from everything.

 

 

-

 

 

The bus was cold inside. Ian knew sooner or later, Fiona was going to know about this, about him enlisting with Lip’s ID. He could almost picture how mad she would be, Lip would be mad at him, too, if not for stealing his own identity then for never saying goodbye. It wasn’t an impulsive decision, leaving that is. He tried to stay, to wait just a few years more, but the air got heavier and heavier until he felt like he was drowning all the time.

He just had to get out, out of the town, out where Mickey Milkovich wouldn’t be able to push and pull at him. He didn’t blame Mickey for what happened, fuck, he would never. You can never blame someone for not loving you enough, as much as you can’t blame them for making you love them too much. It just hurt too much to handle.

 

_Not everybody gets to just-_

 

He had been trying too hard, hadn’t he?

 

_Does he get that look in his eye when he’s with you?_

 

When Mandy told him, maybe he started to look for it too hard, reading into everything too goddamn much. How could he let himself be so blind to believe that it was going somewhere? That something can start between two people if just one of them tried hard enough. A kiss and smile and Ian went on and got his hopes up like a fool. Ian always knew he wasn’t the brightest Gallagher but now he thought of it, it had to be the biggest understatement of the year.

 

_If you give half a shit about me-_

 

As if ‘giving half a shit’ was enough to mend this precarious thing between them. Then and there, Ian had to realize what he was asking for, that it was more than ‘half a shit’. He had no idea where the hell along the line he fooled himself that they were in love or some shit when in reality, it was just him all alone. He practically groveled and begged Mickey Malkovich to break his heart and this had to be the one time he got what he asked for. It was now all over on the ground and god, no matter how fast the bus was going, it just kept crumbling, leaving its broken trail through miles and miles, endlessly.  

 

 

 

 


End file.
